Sacred Poetry from Around the World

Vain wits and eyesLeave, and be wiseAbuse not, shun not holy fire,But with true tears wash off your mire.Tears and these flames will soon grow kind,And mix an eye-salve for the blind.Tears cleanse and supple without fail,And fire will purge your callous veil,Then comes the light! which when you spy,And see your nakedness thereby,Praise Him, who dealt His gifts so freeIn tears to you, in fire to me.